


fall to your knees bring on the rapture

by smallredboy



Category: House M.D.
Genre: Alternate Universe - BDSM, Dom James Wilson, Kneeling, M/M, Post-Tritter Arc, Season/Series 03, Sub Greg House, Trans James Wilson, resolved emotional tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-21
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-11-01 14:08:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17868722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smallredboy/pseuds/smallredboy
Summary: House apologizes the only way he knows how.





	fall to your knees bring on the rapture

**Author's Note:**

  * For [isnonstop](https://archiveofourown.org/users/isnonstop/gifts).



> a fic heavily based on the At Your Mercy 'verse, which is set in a world where Dominant and submissive are normalized, biology-based roles. and of course, AYM is by the person i gifted this to, a good friend of mine who loves hilson as much as i do
> 
> the title is from _the kids aren't alright_ by fall out boy
> 
> enjoy! especially you, avi!

House knows this is the calm after the storm, but he’s not any less nervous.

He’s back after this whole debacle, and he’s free, and Cuddy perjured herself to save his ass. Her love for him really does go that far, doesn’t it? But all he can think of is Wilson, Wilson, Wilson— who ratted him out, sure, but he’s just as much a mess as he is. And he handed him his Vicodin. And he’s good, really, and if anything he deserves it. He would never admit it, not in a million years— hell, even if Wilson ordered him to— but he knows this whole mess he brought onto himself.

So when he gets a break from his routine of really-sick-patient and then a DDX, he makes a beeline for Wilson’s office. He hates that his submissive behaviors are flaring up (flaring up because they’re a sickness he doesn’t want, like the pain in his leg). He hates that he wants to kneel at Wilson’s side and have him pet him and have him mumble nonsense praise he knows he’s not worthy of.  _ Good boy _ , he can hear Wilson whispering. Fucking ridiculous.

But he still opens the door without knocking, and he still looks around for one of those kneeling pillows Wilson keeps around in case a submissive patient is more comfortable kneeling than sitting. He’s one of the most caring Dominants House has ever met, with three ex-wives, one of them even being a fellow Dom— it didn’t work out, sure, but it’s still an accomplishment.

“House?” Wilson looks up at him, raising his brows.

House doesn’t reply and grabs one of the kneeling pillows, dropping it on the space next to Wilson’s leg.

“House, what are you—?”   
  
He drops to his knees and leans against Wilson’s leg.

“Oh,” Wilson says, and he keeps working silently, humming to himself.

“Are you not gonna say anything at having Gregory House on his knees for you?” he deadpans.

He rolls his eyes but doesn’t look at him. “You expect a joke about you eating me out? Because I’ll give you one.”   


House nudges at his knee, blushing just a little. “No, just something like  _ oh since when are you so adept to playing the submissive role you were given _ ?”   


He chuckles a little. “It’s just the closest thing to an apology you can muster. And this apology works, considering you’re appealing to me being a Dominant.”   
  
“Oh, it’s working?” he teases, nudging his knee some more.

Instead of replying, Wilson puts a heavy hand on his hair and starts petting him.

House melts and leans into the touch, as much as he doesn’t like that he immediately does so. He knows he wouldn't accept this from anyone else, he knows this isn’t his biology speaking, but he can’t let himself think that. He’s just a submissive, and he’s got needs, and he can’t let himself face what he feels for his Dominant best friend.

He stays there for a while until the strain gets to him and he pulls a face.

Wilson immediately notices, looks down at him. “If your leg hurts, you can stand up.” It’s the same voice he used with Julie.

“I wasn’t asking for your permission,” House grumbles, standing up and putting the pillow back in place before swallowing two Vicodin pills.

“Well, you  _ want  _ to ask for my permission,” he accuses.    
  
Instead of answering, House leaves his office, but not without wondering if he really does want to follow Wilson’s command. 

* * *

House ends up on his knees again two weeks later.

It’s not leftover guilt, it’s more like leftover  _ need _ . He knows where this is heading, where this train will bring him, and he’s sure he likes the destination, but God, what if it ends badly? He’s never learned to enjoy the moment, and so the mere thought of losing Wilson in the distant future makes something inside him stir uncomfortably.

And so he’s there, while Wilson is working. He pops three pills to make sure he won’t have a flare-up, to make sure he can stay there as long as he can. It’s stupid, and it’s cheesy, perhaps, but he has to. He has to get this hint of intimacy, even if Wilson won’t allow him anything else or anything more.

He puts the pillow there and drops to his knees, and Wilson looks down at him, and there’s something so soft about his eyes.

God, he’s so deep in. He hasn’t been this deep in ever before. Even with Stacy.

Wilson puts a hand on his hair again, pets him, and he’s reminded why he’s so deep in— he is so much of a better Dominant than Stacy ever was. He’s kind and soft-spoken, and God, he’s really here, fawning over his best friend, over his best friend that has had rumor after rumor about them dating. About him being House’s owner, because of course— what else could he be? He’s the person closest to him, and he’s got the mark of a Dominant for anyone to see when he’s rolled up his sleeves.

“You know where this is going,” Wilson says softly, still petting him, his work long forgotten.

It’s one of Wilson’s  _ things _ , to forego work when House is on the line — it’s kinda cute, if he's being honest.

“And you want it to go this way?” he asks, all too careful.

House draws in a sigh.

“Answer me.”   


It’s one order, but it shakes him to his core.

House inhales. He doesn’t know what he wants to say — there’s too much to say.

“Yes.” He leans into Wilson’s knee, and he stops petting him, starts scratching his scalp. “I want it to go this way.”   
  
“Good,” Wilson praises, and it makes something flourish deep inside him.

He stays there until his leg starts hurting, and as soon as he stands up Wilson pulls him closer.

“Can I kiss you?”   
  
“You’re the one asking permission—?”

“I care about your consent,” Wilson says. “Now answer me— can I kiss you?”

House breathes hard, and stares at Wilson’s lips. “Yes.”

Wilson doesn’t doubt when he leans in.   
  


**Author's Note:**

> hit me up at @noplceinheaven!! please kudo and/or comment if you enjoyed it!! :0)


End file.
